


April Fools'

by lellabeth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, clint loves pranks, gratuitous fluff, natasha is taking none of your shit, phil just loves clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3668769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lellabeth/pseuds/lellabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course he was plotting. Of course Clint was plotting, because April Fools’ to Clint was like sub-par engineering to Tony or scientific inaccuracies in movies to Bruce - they just couldn’t leave it alone.</p><p>“I hope you know what you’re doing this year,” Phil told him. Clint adored pranks, in any and all forms. He planned his April Fools’ days with a precision Phil wished he’d utilize in the field, mapping routes and calculating time scales like his life depended on it. Usually Clint’s pranks were minor and harmless. No one needed a repeat of last year, when Clint had covered everything in Steve’s bedroom in Captain America wrapping paper and then had to remove it all himself while Steve looked on disapprovingly and lectured Clint about personal space.</p><p>“Oh, trust me,” Clint said, and Phil didn’t trust the gleam in his eye one bit. “This is gonna be special.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Fools'

**Author's Note:**

> just me writing some ridiculous Phlint fluff, a.k.a a day ending in -y.

Phil had learned to put up with a lot of things since he and Clint had moved in together. He suppressed the urge to scream every time he stumbled over a wet towel on the bathroom floor. He ignored how his eye twitched whenever he saw a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink. He even managed not to lose his mind when Clint turned their entire bedroom into a floor-drobe for his clothes (Phil couldn’t imagine getting up in the morning without wading through a sea of purple, now).

Still, he knew that the faint sounds of Clint outright giggling to himself never lead to anything good. Phil walked into the living room, watch as Clint cupped a hand over his mouth and scribbled something on a piece of paper with his other hand.

“What are you up to?”

Clint crumped the piece of paper in his fist, looking up with wide eyes. “Nothing at all.”

Phil sighed. “Clint, if you end up with broken bones again—”

“Chill, babe.” Phil raised an eyebrow, because really? “No broken bones. Just… plotting.”

Of course he was plotting. Of _course_ Clint was plotting, because April Fools’ to Clint was like sub-par engineering to Tony or scientific inaccuracies in movies to Bruce - they just couldn’t leave it alone.

“I hope you know what you’re doing this year,” Phil told him. Clint adored pranks, in any and all forms. He planned his April Fools’ days with a precision Phil wished he’d utilize in the field, mapping routes and calculating time scales like his life depended on it. Usually Clint’s pranks were minor and harmless. No one needed a repeat of last year, when Clint had covered everything in Steve’s bedroom in Captain America wrapping paper and then had to remove it all himself while Steve looked on disapprovingly and lectured Clint about personal space.

“Oh, trust me,” Clint said, and Phil didn’t trust the gleam in his eye one bit. “This is gonna be special.”

\--

Phil had almost forgotten about April Fools’ by the time it rolled around. That is, until he took a sip of his morning coffee and was hit with a wave of warm, bitter salt on his tongue. Clint looked at him, smirking.

Phil drank the whole mug while keeping eye contact with Clint.

“Could’ve used a little sugar, _babe_ ,” he said, kissing Clint’s cheek before he left.

His next surprise happened as he got in his car and turned the keys in the ignition. Sound blared all around him, making him flinch, but the dial didn’t seem to affect the music’s volume at all.

“Little shit,” Phil murmured. He buckled his seatbelt and resigned himself to Taylor Swift at an ear-splitting decibel level for the entire drive.

From then on, it only got worse. Phil’s morning oatmeal had a layer of hot sauce in the middle, his chair had something sticky on the seat that stuck to his pants, and Clint had screwed with the settings on his computer monitor so everything was sideways.

Phil sat in his chair, tongue burning and with a crick in his neck, and smiled. He knew he should be annoyed with the pranks - and he was, in a low-level way - but more than anything, he felt overwhelmingly grateful that Clint felt safe enough to be so juvenile. It had taken Phil a long time to break through Clint’s annoying, asshole attitude and find the scared insecure man underneath, but he’d persisted and found love like he’d never even dreamed of. Clint was everything to him.

So even if that meant dealing with the asshole attitude once in a while, he’d take it.

And later in the afternoon, when Stark forwarded him a video that showed Clint trying to sneak up on a sleeping Natasha with a jar of honey and some feathers that ended with Clint looking like a shiny chicken, well. Phil was entitled to a few laughs of his own after all.

 


End file.
